


golden string tying us through everything

by n7punk



Series: Outside of the War - She-ra canon stories [19]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, F/F, Kink Negotiation, Light Bondage, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Safewords, Smut, Walking In On Someone, and when I say explicit I mean EXPLICIT and repeated, it only took me three months to break down and do a clawplay fic hope yall are happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:21:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25957423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n7punk/pseuds/n7punk
Summary: Adora and Catra become known for PDA before they even make it back to Bright Moon. They are not shameless, but you would think they were with how often they get caught. All that build-up has to lead themsomewhere.(Or, Catra and Adora get interrupted – not caught, Catra cannot stress this enough – making out enough times that Catra takes matters into her own hands to ensure they get their time alone together, and then she insists Adoraaskfor what she wants.)
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Series: Outside of the War - She-ra canon stories [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1793227
Comments: 13
Kudos: 343





	golden string tying us through everything

**Author's Note:**

> It’s switch hours in this dyke bar lads. I’m not even sure who is actually topping in this just take it.  
> CONTENT WARNING: clawplay/scratching/masochism. No blood is drawn, it is all done very carefully with safe words and prior discussion.  
> This is also kind of a follow-up to ["to have & hold"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25810030) set a couple weeks after once Adora has made more progress.

The first time really is not their _fault_. Catra and Adora have spent their entire lives touching each other at any excuse, hanging off each other for reasons only Catra really understood at the time, but this is all _very new_ for Catra. The Princesses are a lot, Bright Moon is a lot, taking a breath and not lashing out is a lot. Catra is trying, and all she really asks is that Adora tries for her, too.

So yes, they touch each other _a lot_ , but they at least keep their hands to themselves when it comes to touches with _intent_. Catra drapes herself in Adora’s lap or over her shoulders, Adora puts her hand on her shoulder or cheek, and they both hold hands and rest their foreheads together as an unspoken form of affection. They even kiss – quite often, actually – in front of the others. Frosta makes retching sounds despite the fact that Catra, personally, would call the embraces chaste. At least compared to what they have already gotten up to in their bedroom.

But speaking of their bedroom, that is where it happens for the first time, hence Catra’s defense it _is not their fault_.

Catra is sprawled out on her side in the bed, Adora in her arms and idly tracing the stripes on her arms. Catra is in the middle of making dark marks bloom across Adora’s neck and shoulders, tugging lightly at her shirt to pull it out of the way, when her ears twitch at the tell-tale sparkling of Glimmer’s magic. She was too absorbed in _Adora_ – in finally having the other woman before her, around her, under her tongue – to really be paying attention, and they do not get enough warning to disengage themselves.

“Adora! You’re needed in the- Oh!” is Glimmer’s idea of a greeting. Catra rolls onto her back to glare over her shoulder at her, knowing it allows Glimmer to see the dark marks on Adora’s neck normally hidden by her shirt, as well as the way her own top has been rucked up to bunch around her ribcage.

“It’s called privacy, Sparkles. Even in the Horde we knew how to _knock_ ,” Catra growls, glaring in the other woman’s direction. Glimmer has the grace to blush – well, actually, she has been blushing from the moment Catra landed eyes on her.

“I forgot! Adora never used to have problems with me popping in!” Glimmer defends, a little breathlessly. Her eyes dart between Catra and Adora. Catra heaves a sigh. They were not actually _doing_ anything, at least not more than kissing and exploring with their hands. She still would like to _return_ to it, now.

Catra rolls back onto her side, fixing her glare indistinctly over Adora’s shoulder at the wall. Adora is blushing, colour approaching the depth of her stupid jacket at this point. She is very carefully staring at Glimmer’s feet. That is when Catra realizes Glimmer is _still here_.

“Seriously, Sparkles? We aren’t giving a show tonight,” Catra throws over her shoulder. She watches Adora’s flush deepen at that as Glimmer sputters behind them.

“Or _any_ night, for that matter,” Adora adds, glaring at Catra. That will turn out to be a lie, but-

For the moment, Catra just shrugs unapologetically. Glimmer seems to recover from her shock. “I’m sorry, but I really do need Adora,” she says, sheepish. Catra groans, covering her eyes with her hands in frustration as Adora sighs and lifts from the bed beside her.

“Can it be quick?” Adora asks as she settles on the edge of the bed. Catra petulantly does not roll over, keeping her back to Glimmer and tail flicking in irritation as she feels the bed shift. She hears the thud of Adora pulling on her boots and dropping her feet back to the ground.

“Nope!” Glimmer corrects, almost gleefully, her voice much closer to the bed. Catra groans again as she hears Adora start to protest before the sparkling sound returns and the mattress suddenly rises. Catra rolls back over only once they are gone to glare at the empty room.

\--

The second time is only partially their fault. Yes, the castle gardens are technically a public space, but if there was ever a public space to make out it would under the draping willow tree that popped up after the explosion of growth from the Heart. And making out really is all they are doing – and all they are planning on doing, at least on Adora’s end. Sure, she has a hand under Catra’s shirt, but she is just resting it on the soft curve of her waist. Catra has one hand buried in her hair, her hair tie stolen away on her wrist, and the other on Adora’s lower back. She hums happily into the kiss as they relax into each other’s arms, Catra having to stand on her toes just a little to meet Adora. Normally Adora bends to meet her, but for some reason Catra stretching up to her is making a bubble of warmth form in her chest today that she is not bothering to fight.

They were just supposed to be going on their evening walk through the gardens, but that morning had been their _first_ , and they had struggled to breathe without at least holding hands for the rest of the day. When they reached the tree that Catra and Melog favour, Melog had sprung up into the branches while Catra wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into an indecent kiss.

Yes, okay, the kiss is a little _much_ for public, Adora can acknowledge that. But she has no intentions of their _second_ being in the gardens, so it really is just a kiss.

Unfortunately, they are spotted by Scorpia, who Catra may have easily made up with, but she does not seem to be ready to see Catra making out just yet. She releases a shrill gasp and starts stammering when she sees them. Adora pulls away reluctantly – although not as reluctantly as Catra, who chases her lips for just a moment – and sends an apologetic look Scorpia’s way. Emily whirrs quizzically at Scorpia’s side as Scorpia, still rather bright red, continues to stammer something approaching an apology.

Catra, now that they have actually _stopped_ , looks embarrassed and concerned, pulling out of Adora’s embrace to wrap an arm around herself and fix her gaze on the ground. Scorpia finally gives up on stammering and chooses to instead just back away slowly. Adora sighs once she is out of sight.

“I would have thought, with how she and Perfuma have been getting on and all, she would be over this,” she tells Catra, rubbing sheepishly at the back of her neck. They have talked about Scorpia at length – partially because of the whole hopeless-and-largely-ignored-crush-thing, but also because she was one of the most important apologies for Catra.

Catra shrugs, still unable to look up from the ground. Above them, Melog chirps before dropping from the branches and coming to curl around Catra’s side. Catra smiles at them gratefully and reaches out to pet their head. “She was… really hung up on me. She said she just needs time when it comes to _us_ ,” she gestures between the two of them, “even if she understands and forgives me for the whole thing. I don’t think it is the PDA so much as seeing me like _this_ that bothers her,” Catra explains, blushing and gesturing to herself as Melog’s mane turns an interesting pink shade.

 _Like this_ is Catra with her hair slightly mussed, a few marks from that morning peeking out from the edges of her clothing, lips bitten and the hem of her shirt still rucked up from Adora’s wandering touch. Adora suddenly has the terrible, jealous image of seeing Catra like _that_ during the period after the portal where she deluded herself she had let Catra go and having to know someone else caused it. Yeah, okay, she gets it.

“Let’s take this inside?” she offers, reaching out for her girlfriend. Catra smirks a little at her, taking her hand happily.

\--

The third time is a true interruption – as well as completely and utterly Adora’s fault. She could hardly sit still during dinner, hyper and worked up from sitting in meetings all day. As soon as the meal was finished, she dragged Catra to the gym to _blow off steam_. Catra has a few other ideas for how Adora could use all that energy, but she knows that Adora is an insufferable gym rat, so she just lets her girlfriend pull her into the training area. Besides, getting to just _watch_ can be its own kind of fun.

Watching is fun until Adora realizes she is doing it and sends her a smug smirk, dropping her weights and challenging her to a spar. The flash in her eyes really should have warned Catra, but the fact it is even there once again puts this firmly in the _Adora’s fault_ column.

They sparred, barehanded, wrestling with each other more than anything else. Eventually Adora got Catra pinned beneath her, but Catra has never been one to take it lying down. She rolls her hips up, assuming the sudden gesture will startle Adora enough to give her a moments advantage. Unfortunately for her, Adora is getting steadily more confident about this stuff, and their fights – in training, or on the battlefield – have always been a special kind of foreplay. Adora releases a gasp, but it is _pleased_ rather than _startled_ , and her grip flexes on Catra’s wrists, pinned on either side of her ears. Catra _twitches_ at the sound, at the pin, at the realization of where this is going. Adora grins smugly down at the dawning realization and flush on Catra’s face before she descends on her.

Catra leans up for the kiss, but Adora doesn’t _give_ it to her, instead leaning straight down to mouth along her neck. It makes Catra whine, shifting just a bit under her grip as her annoyance struggles against how nice Adora’s mouth feels on her neck. Adora nips at the junction of her shoulder and neck and Catra gasps out her name, hips jerking unconsciously this time. The response earns her a pleased groan from Adora, her weight shifting so she can press a thigh between Catra’s legs. A sharp thrill shoots through her, hips rolling down against _pressure_ this time-

“Seriously, Adora?!” Bow squawks, yanking Catra out of the moment violently. She instantly feels like she has been doused in a bucket of ice water, snarling at Adora, Bow, _herself_ for being so stupid as to let herself be in such a compromising position in public. Adora jerks back, face blazing red as she stares up over Catra’s shoulder, presumably at the doorway where Bow’s voice is coming from. Catra snarls again, because Adora still has not _let go_ of her in all her shock. Catra’s claws and _pelvis_ are still pinned beneath her, the image of shameful defeat that she _had_ been luxuriating in.

Adora startles further back, seeming to have remembered Catra’s vulnerable position and releasing her hastily, kneeling back and offering a hand to pull her up apologetically, still glancing between her and Bow as her face darkens with heat. Catra does not take the offered hand, climbing to her feet herself and standing with her arms crossed, pointedly not turning around to look at Bow.

“Just… not in the _gym_ , guys,” Bow practically pleads behind them. Catra is annoyed, and embarrassed, and she does not contain her snark on a good day anyway. She may not have the same weird hang-ups about her desires that Adora is _apparently_ starting to get over, but she does not want anyone but Adora to see her like this. To see her weak, vulnerable, _submissive_.

“So everywhere else is fine? The war table, then?” Catra calls over her shoulder, swiveling her ears back to catch the unmistakable sounds of a face palm as Bow groans. Adora’s flush is _burning_ now.

 _Interesting_.

\--

Adora tries to reason this is not revenge for the gym.

It _definitely_ feels like revenge – if a highly pleasant one - as Catra’s claws trail down the line of her ribs beneath her shirt, free hand gripping her left thigh to force her legs wider apart. Adora groans into the kiss, shifting against the table as Catra tugs on her thigh now, insistent on her sliding down the table to _meet_ her. Adora could resist – Catra is the one who shoved her down on the table once the war room had cleared, she should have planned how high she landed better – but the strength behind her grip tells her that if she doesn’t cooperate Catra intends to _make_ her, and the thought floods her with heat that begs to be met.

She slides the few inches down the table that lets Catra’s hips press between her legs, moaning at the contact as Catra abandons the kiss to _bite_ her neck, high and well above her collar. The bite is harsh, enough to leave fang impressions, and Adora finds herself twitching down involuntarily at the thought. Catra smirks against her skin for a moment before her rough tongue laps over the bite, forcing a high whine from Adora’s throat.

Catra intends to _mark_ her, right here where anybody could see them, and even if they don’t walk in, they _will_ see once the two of them walk out of here with Catra’s clothes and Adora’s _skin_ in disarray. “Catra,” she gasps, not really an admonishment but the closest she is going to get to a protest right now. She really, really does not want her to stop.

Catra pulls back, at most, an inch. The hand under Adora’s shirt climbs higher to pinch her through her bra, making Adora bite down a moan. “Do you want to stop, princess?” she asks, tone teasing. There is a hard edge there, though – a true question. She knows what Adora was getting at, and she is just as aware as Adora how precarious this is. She stills her hand, splaying it out against Adora’s chest as she waits for a response.

Adora manages to tear one of her hands from where it was gripping the edge of the table to bury it in Catra’s hair, tugging Catra up her body and into a bruising kiss. Should they stop? Yes. Will Adora if Catra doesn’t? Absolutely not.

Unfortunately, she does not need Catra to make the call for them to stop – that happens when the war room doors fling open and flood the otherwise-empty room with light. Adora and Catra both freeze, staring at each other as twin blushes rise at their compromising position.

They get two seconds of silence where Adora thinks maybe whoever opened the doors has not noticed them, and then Frosta starts screaming.

Catra drops her head to Adora’s chest with a groan. Frosta’s tone gets shriller, if anything else.

\--

This one – is Catra’s fault, she can admit that. Will _happily_ admit it, actually. Adora had decided to _surprise_ her, and she normally hates surprises. Not this time. Still, she did not have time to erect her normal barricades of willpower before she turns a corner in the Fright Zone, rattling off the list of supplies they have been able to recover to Scorpia, and she finds herself frozen in place, blinking at Adora’s outline.

Adora is dressed in the blue tunic Catra had picked out for her – the one with the collar that dips low enough to show off the top of her compression bra - and tight white pants, hair up in a loose bun instead of her usual ponytail. She looks like a shining beacon of Bright Moon happiness in the ruined warzone as she raises a hand to wave at Catra from down the hall. Catra swallows thickly, tail twitching slightly as she realizes they are only a few hallways away from her old corner she had used for _privacy_.

Catra turns away from Adora, not acknowledging her as she turns to Scorpia. She extends the tracker pad she has been holding. “Can you take this? I need to see what she wants. This is the first time she has been back since-“ Catra darts her eyes to the side, unable to meet Scorpia’s gaze at the memory of it shining _green_ , electricity crackling all around her, “I’ll bet she will want to look around before we tear it all down,” she finishes, finding Scorpia’s eyes again as she takes the tracker pad she was logging inventory on. Scorpia nods to her, eyes softening in understanding.

Catra tries not to lie anymore, even lies of omission. Everything she just said was true – she just has other plans quickly forming, as well. Laws of decency, if nothing else, dictate she keeps them to herself. “You’re the best,” Catra thanks Scorpia, honestly, throwing her a bright smile before she takes off down the hall. Adora beams at her as she approaches, but Catra does not slow for a greeting. She grabs Adora’s hand and keeps moving, pulling her through the halls with little in the way of a destination in mind. She ends up pulling them into a storage closet she used to have breakdowns in, when the day called for it.

Catra has Adora against the wall before she even has time to comment, pressing a bruising kiss against her lips.

“This is not the greeting I was expecting, I’ll be honest,” Adora gasps, voice tinged with amusement but seemingly perfectly happy to let Catra move down to press a line of gentle, markless - she has _some_ decency, unlike Adora – kisses down the low cut of her top. Catra _growls_ , pulling back to glare up at her girlfriend. She knows Adora can read it as one of her – as she has labeled them – _sex growls_. The glare is dripping with intent.

“You show up here looking like _this_ and expect me to control myself?” Catra questions, hands roaming down to Adora’s thighs to _squeeze_. Adora throws her head back a little for a moment before seeming to remember herself and meeting Catra’s gaze again.

“I- Yes? I honestly just wanted a look at our old bunk before it was torn down. I didn’t think you liked the shirt _that_ much,” Adora tells her, a bit flustered and bewildered. Catra growls again, leaning down to press kisses down Adora’s sternum.

“It’s not the shirt, it is you in it,” she corrects, claws flexing for just a moment before she regains her control. Once that illusion has been dismissed, she happily tugs at the collar, revealing some hidden skin that is _safe_ to mark and descending upon it happily. Adora gasps beneath her as she sets to sucking a bruise into the top of her left breast.

“We shouldn’t- Scorpia,” is Adora’s attempt at a coherent thought. Catra gives her a warning growl this time, and Adora shuts up with a shudder. It does not matter the reason, other women are not to be mentioned while they are doing _this_ , which they decidedly are _going to do_.

“Scorpia,” Catra growls out, stretching up to ghost the words over Adora’s lips, “showed up smelling like _sex_ and _honeysuckle_ this morning. We’re _fine_.” Adora blinks at her owlishly, flushing as she processes that information.

Catra uses the momentary distraction to shove her thigh between Adora’s. It earns her a gasp of surprise that twists into a moan at the end. Adora finally seems convinced enough to tear her arms from her sides and wraps one around Catra’s waist, the other sneaking beneath the hem of her shirt. Catra sighs, the coil of need that was building loosening some at finally having _contact_. She presses forward for another kiss, this one much slower, sweeter than the last. Still, she rocks her thigh forward and gets a low whine for it.

That is when Rogelio decides to open the closet door. Adora practically _shoves_ her away upon turning to see who it is, cheeks blazing.

“What the fuck,” Catra complains, glaring between both her girlfriend and the intruder, meaning the sentiment equally for them both. Rogelio hisses out what is definitely an admonishment – or at least a judgement, Catra’s lizardfolk was never good – and gestures between the two of them wildly. Catra crosses her arms, looking away and sulking. Adora sighs, reaching out a hand to slowly disentangle Catra’s arms from their cross so she can hold her hand as Rogelio gives up and walks away.

“How about that tour?” she asks, sheepishly. Catra sniffs with disdain and nods. The mood is ruined, anyway.

As they leave the closet, Catra eyes Adora’s chest in that top. She _is_ going to have her in it, just not today.

\--

They don’t exactly have a flawless reputation, but Adora is noticing a _pattern_ with them, this week.

It started with Swift Wind – a bad way for it to start. Swift Wind and Catra have reached the point of tolerating each other’s presence and that is about it. Regardless of how _neutral_ Catra feels about him now, Swift Wind dropping from the sky while she has Catra in her lap, the two of them supposed to be scouting changes in the Whispering Woods’ landscape and decidedly _not staying on mission,_ is about one of the worst things he could have done. Not that Adora was planning on taking it much further, but the heat in Catra’s gaze as she spins on him, hissing, tells her that either Catra _was_ ready to or Swift Wind is about to _die_. She quickly catches Catra’s hands with her own to hold back her claws as Swift Wind – mercifully – completely ignores their positioning to launch into a speech about being sent with a secret message from the queen.

The secret message is that she managed to get two gallons of sherbet ice cream hidden from her dad in the back of the freezer and she wants to have a sleepover night to demolish the stash before he finds it. It is silly, but Adora nudges Catra until she agrees to head back to the castle for it because it does sound _fun_ , despite having interrupted them.

The next time it happens, Catra is sitting on her desk, playfully refusing to allow Adora access to her star charts while she flicks her tail over Adora’s face, legs spread so her knees are framing Adora. She is already dressed for bed – which is to say, _completely topless_ – and looking far too smug at the dazed expression on Adora’s face.

Glimmer comes pounding on the door, at least having learned her lesson about teleporting in, calling Adora away to handle a minor emergency. Adora has to leave her gorgeous, seductive, near-naked girlfriend sitting on her desk, arms crossed and tail quivering in frustration as Adora hastily apologizes and leaves.

The third time is probably the one that breaks Catra’s resolve, even if it is not the last. After getting interrupted two days in a row, Catra glare is deadly as Entrapta suddenly pulls Adora out of her arms so she can give her administrator clearance for Darla’s pre-Best Friend Squad road trip upgrades to be installed. That glare is _calculating_ and Adora feels herself swallowing with anticipation as she is pulled away.

The fourth time – and day, in a row – Catra absorbs with such serene calm that Adora _knows_ something is coming. She sends Catra an apologetic smile as Bow pulls her from the room, and Catra smiles back placidly.

Her eyes were burning. Just like they are now, as Catra shoves her back against the bed. Catra settles over her hips, hand playing at the waist of her own pants, the only clothes left between them at this point.

“I don’t want anyone to take you away from me, tonight,” she says, almost conversationally - if excitement were not flooding her words. Adora shivers beneath her as Catra’s hands find her wrists, pulling them together to pin them above her head with one hand. Adora swallows thickly, absently flexing her arms against the thrill of finding them restricted. Catra smirks down at her, her free hand returning to the waist of her pants.

“I already talked to Glimmer. I’m all yours, tonight,” Adora promises, watching the way her words make heat flood Catra’s gaze. The hand at her waist slips lower, into her pocket, pulling out-

 _Oh_. Adora watches with wide eyes as Catra produces the purple scarf. Catra smirks just a little at her reaction, but her gaze is questioning. She squeezes her grip on Adora’s wrists, as if Adora did not _get it_ already, thank you. “Would you like this?” Catra asks, voice quiet and nervous, which is so _rare_ for Catra in bed. Usually she only does something when she is completely comfortable, confident in it. Adora has never seen her nervous to ask for something before. Adora nods, a bit too eager, but she _is_. She watches Catra’s face light up as the nerves slip away. Still, she pauses before committing. “You’re sure you want to?” she asks, and there is something wavering in her voice Adora does not quite recognize. Excitement, maybe.

“Yes, Catra. I’ve thought about this,” Adora promises her, pointedly pressing her wrists back into the mattress. Catra smirks, eyes dancing with quiet delight as she finally begins to wrap the fabric around Adora’s wrists. It says a lot about their lives that Catra does not need to question what is _too much_. She knows exactly how tight to tie the knot between her wrists. The thought sends a shiver through Adora as she finally lets her body relax back into the sheets, completely at the mercy of Catra’s direction.

\--

Catra makes Adora test the tightness of her knots, moving her arms to ensure she still has feeling and she is comfortable before she instructs her to put them back above her head and _leave them there_. Adora shivers at the command.

“Safe words?” Catra asks, low and quiet, as she finishes slipping off her pants, the last barrier between them gone. She tosses them aside, carelessly discarded like the rest of their clothes.

Catra rarely asks this question – they do not need to say it, really, at this point. They both know the words Catra decided before they even touched each other for the first time. Still, Adora always makes a point to ask her before they do something new, so Catra returns the gesture. The simple act sends a thrill of excitement through her – the promise contained in the mention of the words is near-electrifying both to hear and say herself.

Adora shivers as Catra returns to straddle her hips – the words have the same effect on her as they do Catra. She gazes up at her with soft eyes. “Red for stop. Pink for slow. Blue for go,” Adora repeats, dutifully. Her tone is just this side of breathless. Catra leans down to press a kiss to the center of her breastbone.

“Good girl,” she praises, relishing in the way the mere words cause Adora’s breathing to change. Catra looks up from her spot leaned across Adora’s chest, hands finally finding home settled against Adora’s ribs. “I want to do this a bit differently tonight,” Catra tells her, knowing the look sparking in her eyes must be downright mischievous as her tail curls in excitement. Adora flushes, staring at her with wide eyes like she is incapable of looking away.

“What do you want?” Adora asks, fully breathless now. Catra’s mouth quirks up – that really should be _her_ line, especially right now.

“I want tonight to be about you. And I know you are going to hate that idea, but that is the _point_. To have you embrace wanting things, wanting _me_ , wanting how I can make you feel good. Tonight, I’m not going to do anything unless you tell me to,” Catra tells her, tone just a bit smug as she watches Adora flush. There is a long moment of silence where Adora just stares at her, but she makes no move to disobey Catra’s earlier instructions and leaves her arms above her head, so Catra merely waits it out. Adora has a tendency to short-circuit when something is introduced that conflicts with her current view of how things are allowed to work. She usually recovers after a moment.

“I – don’t understand,” Adora manages, still blinking down at her. Catra cannot stop the fond expression of exasperation blooming across her features, tail swaying in amusement behind her.

“You are going to keep your hands right where I want them. Aside from that, I’m not giving any instructions tonight. You tell me what you want, how you want me to touch you. I want to make you feel good, Adora. I want to do what you have been wanting tonight,” Catra tells her, leaning forward to nuzzle under her jaw. She presses light kisses there as Adora whines lightly at her words, the trajectory of the evening apparently finally sinking in.

“Catra,” she practically begs, voice tinged with desperation. Her breath is coming just a touch too fast now.

“I can see how worked up you are getting from the idea,” Catra dissuades, cutting off Adora’s protests before she can even start. She knows what they would be – _I always like what you do, I’m up for anything tonight, why don’t I take care of you instead?_ No, Catra took care of herself while Adora was in a meeting before dinner. Now, she just wants to get to experience Adora. “I want to know what you think about, Adora. I want to fulfill those fantasies I _know_ you had in the time we were apart. It is a side of you I haven’t gotten to see,” Catra explains, maybe a touch desperate herself. She _wants_ this, wants to know how Adora thought of them – _still_ thinks of them.

She knows Adora can never resist what she knows will please her partner, but she is still partially surprised when Adora lets out a breath and gives in. “Okay. I – don’t know how good I am going to be at this, but I want to try,” Adora agrees. Catra pulls back from Adora’s neck to meet her eyes as a satisfied purr rolls forward. She makes eye contact with Adora, finding a blossoming excitement, but also traces of shame. She feels her heart drop, hating that look on Adora’s face. She leans forward to press soft kisses across her lover’s face.

“Stop that. I won’t judge you, Adora. I want you to want this. I want you to let yourself have the nice things you deserve. And the mean things, like me,” she finishes with a joke, tracing one hand idly down the length of Adora’s side.

That works Adora up. She takes a gasp of air, clearly having to fight the urge to argue against Catra’s words. “Let yourself have this, Adora. Let _me_ have this,” Catra reminds her again, keeping her gaze soft as she holds eye contact. The excitement is still there – the shame is, too, but it is less. Background instead of foreground. It is progress – and hopefully they will make more, tonight.

Adora has been getting past a lot of her issues in their relationship. At least improving on them, especially when it comes to holding herself back during sex. Catra tries to do everything she can to make her feel safe, loved - but the problem is Adora is so worried about making sure _Catra_ feels that way she blatantly disregards herself. Catra does not want that – she wants Adora to get just as much from this as she does. She wants them to be _equal_ in their relationship, whenever and wherever they can. They spent most of their lives in an unfortunate power dynamic, trapped by systems around them. In the bedroom, Catra wants it to just be the two of them, and not the demons in their heads.

Maybe Adora reads it on her face – maybe Catra just finally breaks through to her. Adora nods to her. “How explicitly do you want me to guide you?” Adora asks. She sounds a bit hesitant, nervous, but that excitement is still burning in her gaze. Catra strokes her hands down her arms, hoping the gentle pressure will soothe her.

“Extremely explicitly,” she leers, delighting in the way Adora rolls her eyes to try to hide how flustered she is. The attempt is hardly successful. She waits until Adora can meet her eyes again before giving her real answer. “As much as you’re comfortable with. If all you can manage right now is that you want me to go down on you, I can work with that. I don't want this to be uncomfortable for you. If you want to tell me exactly where to put my hands, what rhythm you want as I fuck you – I can do all that, too,” Catra tells her, honestly. Adora’s hips twitch beneath her as she speaks, making a coil of satisfied heat spread through her. Adora’s breath is degrading in the direction of _panting_ , eyes becoming unfocused.

“Okay,” she agrees, “I – don’t know, yet. Kisses, to start?” she asks. Catra can hear the wavering of _holding back_ in her voice, but she obliges the request. Adora already knows – knows what she wants, what she would ask if she could let herself. There is something she has been _wanting_ but not saying, and Catra has a suspicion or two of what it could be from what she has observed over the last few weeks, but she has to wait until Adora is comfortable enough to say it.

Catra leans down to kiss Adora, slow and careful, breaths mixing as they drink each other in. Without prompting, she slowly slides her hands up Adora’s arms and back down her torso to rest lightly against her ribcage. She neatly avoids Adora’s chest as she does so. She is moving her hands to wait in standby – if Adora wants her to start touching her, she has to ask.

When the kiss finishes she pulls back just a fraction to let Adora catch her breath, let her make another request, but she stays silent so Catra presses in again. She keeps the kisses slow, languid – a pace that often is torturous for her, but it feels right tonight. She feels love, affection bubbling in her chest for the woman beneath her, proud of her for allowing herself to agree to this.

Adora shifts beneath her, just enough to feel a slide between their bodies, and she releases a soft gasp into the kiss. Catra swallows it down gratefully, pressing in to up the intensity just a bit. When the kiss breaks, Adora turns her head slightly to the side and Catra takes the hint to lean back, looking down at her questioningly.

“I- Can you bite me?” Adora asks, gaze fixed on the ceiling to her right. Catra is fine with that – if she has to look away to finally voice her desires, Catra is happy to give her that stepping stone. This request is far from _new_ , though Adora does not usually explicitly say it. Normally, she does not have to – biting comes naturally to Catra during sex, and it usually works Adora towards desperation.

“Your neck? Shoulders?” Catra questions, already leaning down to press a soft kiss against one of her favourite spots to mark on Adora’s neck, just beneath the collar of most of her shirts. The very top of the bruises will peek out, but remain hidden enough to maintain a veil of anonymity. Adora’s breath hitches, an eager nod Catra reads as _both, any, please_ bumping against the top of Catra’s head. She lets out a short, amused sound before she follows through on Adora’s request.

Adora stutters out a groan as Catra bites down on her neck. Despite the firmness she uses to mark Adora’s skin, she keeps her hands gentle as she runs them soothingly down Adora’s sides to ground her. Catra works at the spot steadily, almost gently, until she hears Adora huff beneath her.

“Harder. Mark me, Catra,” Adora asks, the edge of a demand entering her voice. Catra feels a shiver run down her body. She releases the spot she was working on, pressing a soft kiss against it before she nudges a little further down. She licks a short stripe against the spot she intends to mark, giving Adora a moment to stop her, but her breath merely hitches. Catra bites down firmly, purring in satisfaction at the moan it earns her this time. “Better. Harder. I can take it,” Adora _pants_ , now, legs shifting just a bit beneath her. _Need_ is starting to roll off her body. Her hands stay firmly in place above her head.

Catra moves to the junction of Adora’s neck and shoulder, a place with tougher skin but plenty of tendons. The kiss she presses there is soft before she bites down hard, pressure approaching as hard as she dares to use for fear of breaking skin. Adora gasps, body arching beneath her, and it sends a bolt of pleasure through Catra just to rouse such a reaction.

“Again. Please,” Adora gasps, tilting her chin back to allow Catra better access.

“Whatever you want, princess,” Catra assures her, moving to the other side of her neck. As she bites down again, the relief of pressure against her fangs soaking into her as easily as Adora’s needy moans, she cannot help but muse how different that statement is now compared to a year ago. A year ago it would have been sarcastic, mocking. Now it is open, honest, even a request: _tell me what you want_.

Catra does not ask before biting again, releasing her own groan to mix with Adora’s this time. Adora rolls her body beneath her, mindlessly seeking _something_ as she moans beneath the pressure. Catra leaves a few more dark marks against her skin before she reluctantly pulls back, observing her handiwork with a satisfied rumble.

“Running out of real estate here,” she comments dryly, a smile twitching at her lips. When she finally meets Adora’s eyes she is rolling them, an exasperated huff puffing between them.

“Can I request you don’t mock me, or is this limited to your mouth and hands?” Adora asks, but the question is sarcastic, a fond smile breaking through the haze of lust. Catra would never make fun of her in bed, not really – and Adora would never want her to be silent.

“Hmm, that does fall under _mouth_ , I suppose,” Catra responds, conversationally. “But speaking of hands,” she flexes her fingers against Adora, tips of her claws just gracing her skin and causing her to arch with a gasp beneath her, “what would you like me to do with them?” Catra questions, even though she knows. Has known, really, ever since Adora asked her to bite her.

Adora looks away, flushing. “Do that again,” she requests, voice small. Catra obliges her, fingers and claws flexing to just prick against her skin. Adora’s eyes flutter closed with a moan.

Catra can’t quite keep to herself, leaning to press a soft kiss against the corner of Adora’s jaw. “I need you to explicitly ask for this, Adora. I need you to be sure,” she tells her, voice soft. They both know that Catra knows – has suspected since even before they started dating, before the war. Back then she did not think the accidental reaction had anything to do with _her_ and more just the touch. Now, she knows better.

“Your claws-“ Adora starts, stops. Catra pulls back, gazing down at her with a look dark from want.

“I have them. Can cut through metal with them when I want to,” she teases, voice soft to break the tension holding Adora’s desires down. She raises one hand to lightly flick a claw over Adora's nipple, something they have done before while making out. Adora _writhes_ beneath her touch, panting as she struggles to reestablish her control over herself. Catra withdraws her hands to wait by Adora's sides again. Adora huffs, but her gaze is as fond as it is dripping with intent when it meets Catra’s. The words seem to have sparked something in her, because Catra sees no traces of shame as she looks her in the eye for the first time while she makes a request.

“They are deadly, Catra. _You_ are. And to know you have all that at your disposal, but you will hold back-“ Adora cuts off to swallow thickly. Catra feelings herself _blushing_. “I want you to keep them out. I know you will be careful. I know you won’t hurt me,” Adora assures her. Catra feels her ears twitching in shock at how Adora has turned the situation on her, suddenly offering _her_ assurance as she orders her.

A shiver runs down her spine. Her claws slide out and she flexes her fingers slightly to rest the tips of her claws against Adora’s skin. Adora gasps, starts to shift-

Catra yanks her hands away. “No. You have to keep still. I know you trust me, but I can’t do this, I can’t be _sure,_ if you are moving,” Catra tells her, letting her hands come back to rest against Adora’s ribs as she stills again. A flash of panic had flared across Adora’s face when Catra said _no_ , but it quickly receded as she finished.

“I’m terrible at keeping still,” Adora points out, and Catra cannot help but chuckle, “but I’ll try. I want this,” Adora finishes, voice going breathy again. Catra nods, satisfied, flexing her fingers again so her claws come to rest on Adora’s skin. Adora’s eyes flutter closed, her breath coming just a bit too fast. Catra can see her muscles flex as she holds herself _back_ and it makes her swallow thickly.

“How do you want me to do this, Adora?” Catra asks, partially because Adora is supposed to be telling her, but also because for _this_ she needs explicit instructions. She wants to, Adora wants her to, but her teasing about her claws’ capabilities also was not an exaggeration. It was as much a warning as a joke. Adora does need to keep still if they are going to safely do this.

Adora takes a deep breath, steadying herself, but when she opens her eyes her pupils are blown out and the flush that has been blazing for most of this is starting to spill down her shoulders. “On my hips. Drag them down my thighs. Or up against my sides. I don’t care – I just want to feel them Catra. To know you are there,” Adora tells her honestly, dark eyes flashing as she holds Catra’s gaze. Catra trembles beneath her gaze, under the weight of the _trust_ in her words.

Silently, she holds eye contact with Adora and trails her claws down Adora’s side, just shy of digging in. Adora gasps, head throwing back a little but body tensing to otherwise stay still.

“Colour?” Catra prompts, softly, as she returns her hands to where they started, splaying out her fingers a bit so she does not drag them down on the same light tracks already raising on Adora's skin.

“Blue. _Again_ , Catra, please,” Adora begs, her breath coming short again, now. Catra takes a steadying breath and leans forward, pressing a kiss against Adora’s lips as she repeats the motion with lightly-increased pressure. Adora moans into the kiss, muscles tensing again as she holds herself still.

Catra lets herself get lost in the kiss, claws dragging down ribs, hips, thighs, _skin_ as she gives in to some unspoken instinct. As she works Adora moans, gasps, _whines_ her name, breathing degraded to desperate panting. The smell of arousal builds in the room, leaving no doubts how much Adora is enjoying this. Catra’s own breathing becomes unsteady and she is forced to pull back from the kiss, biting down on Adora’s neck again without prompting as she sweeps her claws down. The _trust_ in this experience is doing more for her than she anticipated, gut clenching as she presses her fangs down, claws flexing. Adora cries out this time, a mangled attempt at her name that sends a thrill through her.

Catra manages to pull her teeth away from Adora, licking carefully at the spot to soothe it as she pauses to just flex her claws deeper into Adora’s skin, able to increase the pressure without the threat of movement making her bleed. Adora _keens_ beneath her.

“Catra, your tongue,” Adora pants. She does not elaborate, so Catra merely licks the spot again and revels in Adora’s ragged breathing. She resumes the movement of her claws against Adora, this time dragging them down the edges of her stomach. Adora’s muscles flex desperately beneath her, but she manages to keep still - enough.

“You’re being so good for me, Adora. Holding still, letting yourself be tied, letting yourself _want_. I’m proud of you, princess,” Catra praises, drinking in the desperate gasping the words earn her. She settles back on her haunches, dragging her claws slowly down and _watching_ this time as Adora’s entire body shudders, sweat glistening across her skin and eyes screwed shut in pleasure. Her lips are parted, needy gasps spilling forth. “Where do you want my tongue?” Catra asks, gaze locked on Adora’s face. Adora is too flushed for her words to have a visible effect, but she whines softly at Catra’s words. Catra stills her claws, waiting for a response. _That_ gets Adora’s attention, eyes snapping open as she desperately casts around for a moment before her gaze locks with Catra’s.

“Please, I’m so close. Can you–“ Adora swallows and Catra smirks, keeping her eyes soft and encouraging, “Can you go down on me?” she manages to ask, biting her lip.

“ _Happily_ , princess,” Catra promises her, leaning forward to kiss the unsure expression off her girlfriend’s face as she lifts her hands again, this time tracing her claws along the undersides of Adora's breasts. Adora cries out into the kiss, pressing forward to hold it for a long moment when Catra tries to pull back. Catra lets her drink it in a bit longer, flicking across her nipples with her claws and reveling in how it makes Adora's chest heave. That movement, though - Adora can't help it, she needs to _breathe_ \- but Catra pulls backs.

Catra sinks down Adora’s body, repositioning herself to kneel between Adora’s calves so she can properly lean down. She readjusts her hands so she can drag her claws down Adora’s thighs, but pauses momentarily. “Here okay?” she asks, looking up to make eye contact with Adora as she pointedly flexes her claws.

“ _Yes_ , please, Catra,” Adora breathes. It is all the encouragement Catra needs.

“Spread your legs, princess,” Catra instructs. She feels a thrill rush through her at how instantly Adora obeys, spreading her legs so Catra can finally lean forward and press kisses against her inner thighs. All the contact has worked her to a near-frenzy, her inner thighs as wet as she is at this point. Catra laps at the slick happily as she begins to work her claws again, knowing the rough of her tongue against such a sensitive area must be intense with Adora in this state.

Adora gasps, high whines spilling forward with every breath. It is all the encouragement Catra needs to finally turn her head the last few inches and meet her.

Adora’s back arches, a sharp cry ringing out, but she keeps her legs dutifully still beneath Catra’s claws. Catra requested that she be _completely_ still, but she can tell Adora is barely clinging on. As long as her legs remain still, Catra feels comfortable continuing, so she lets Adora strain against the tie at her wrists – hands still staying where Catra had left them – as Catra licks up the length of her. She lets her purr of satisfaction roll through her at the taste, knowing the vibrations spill forward into Adora as she leans forward and _sucks_ against Adora’s clit. Adora cries out, a mangled attempt at Catra’s name, and Catra feels her pulse down on nothing beneath her.

It only takes a few more strokes of her claws against Adora’s thighs and careful laps of her rough tongue for Adora’s entire body to tense and shake, coming apart with high, needy cries beneath her. Catra stills her claws, not trusting either of them as she gently works her mouth against Adora for just a moment longer. She pulls off quickly, not wanting to hurt her while her orgasm makes her over-sensitive, instead opting to press gentle kisses and short licks against her inner thighs as Adora shakes apart beneath her.

The smell of sex, of _Adora_ , is almost as intense as the flavour on Catra's tongue as she watches Adora come back to herself, breathless and weak, through half-lidded eyes. She purrs with satisfaction at how _wrecked_ Adora looks, finally pulling herself away from between her thighs to slide up her body and take a slow, languid kiss. Adora kisses back weakly, arms trembling above her head.

“You were so good for me, Adora,” Catra promises her, finally reaching up to gently take Adora’s wrists and slowly pull them down to tuck against her chest, still bound. Adora’s eyes are still completely glazed over, body twitching with aftershocks, but she lets out a soft, contented sound at the praise as Catra begins to massage her arms, working on returning sensation before she releases the knot on the blue silk scarf and Adora is forced to support her arms on her own rather than relying on the tension between them.

“I- Was that what you wanted?” Adora manages to ask, some of the light of intelligence returning to her vision as her gaze finds Catra’s. Catra can’t help but chuckle, squeezing Adora’s arms just a little harder as she massages them. After all that, after Catra saying tonight was about _her_ , Adora still wants to know she did it right.

“Yes, Adora. I wanted you to tell me what you wanted. I wanted you to direct me. You did everything I asked. You were perfect,” Catra promises her, pressing a soft kiss along the side of Adora’s wrist. Adora’s breath hitches, a relieved look spreading through her gaze. “I’m going to untie this now, okay?” Catra warns her, tugging gently on the scarf. Adora nods, her body finally seeming to release the last of its tension at the knowledge she did _well_. She settles back into the pillows, humming lightly as Catra carefully undoes the knot and guides Adora’s arms back down to her sides. She tosses the scarf off towards the center of the room, draping herself fully against Adora’s body before her hands find her girlfriend’s wrists and begin to gently massage there as well.

“Are your arms okay? And your sides?” Catra asks, pressing a light kiss against Adora’s jaws.

“I’m- I’m _perfect_ , Catra. That was amazing,” Adora returns, voice shaky but _honest_. Catra trills in delight, nudging in against Adora’s pulse point. She can feel Adora’s hesitance gathering beneath her skin and makes a small, inquisitive sound in response. “I just – what about you?” Adora asks, flexing her arms a bit beneath Catra’s hands. Catra lets go, lightly resting her hands on Adora’s hips instead, reveling in the heat pouring off her skin from her claw trails there.

“I already _did_ me, just thinking about this while you were in your meeting. Sometimes I’m allowed to take care of you, Adora. It’s okay for you to just let yourself feel good, occasionally,” Catra tells her, amused and exasperated. Adora lets out a soft _oh_ beneath her. Catra can practically _hear_ her having an epiphany. She purrs, increasing in volume as Adora chances moving her arms again to wrap them around her back.

“Besides, I didn’t know how long we would get without an interruption. Best to just need to take care of one of us,” Catra adds, voice curling in amusement. Adora lets out a huff of laughter, pulling Catra closer and snuggling into her.

“I love you,” she promises, pressing a kiss into the top of Catra’s hair. Catra shivers against her.

“I love you, too,” she returns. She had been nervous about this - nervous Adora would not like it, or might not even agree to it. She had suspected a few things Adora might want to ask her, this being one of them, and she had been truthfully worried about how it would go. She had not expected the trust Adora placed in her to make her heart - and core - warm the way it did. If she ever needed further proof of how much she loves the woman beneath her, the _pride_ she feels for her having asked for this is evidence enough. Purring, Catra nudges closer into Adora's chest. They are definitely going to be doing this again - and next time, she suspects Adora will be able to ask without prompting.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh did you think the title was sweet no it’s bondage set to the tune of folklore. Surprise lol. Catra stole the scarf from Glimmer and she has exactly 0 intentions on returning it.  
> This is actually one of Adora's fantasies from "the only heaven i'll be sent to is when i'm alone with you". Catra asked her for one of the fantasies she had while they were apart and Adora delivered.  
> Other works in the series this mentions: [Catra and Scorpia making up](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25883779), [their first time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25340950), [Catra & Adora's safewords](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25810030).


End file.
